Of Cabbages and Kings
by Seizalyn
Summary: Thirteen years after the UBS III, Koganei and Ganko stumble upon one another under tenser-than-usual circumstances. Has the Hokage spirit survived against the test of time?


**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Well, as the saying goes -- when you're out of inspiration, try new stuff, ne? *sweatdrop* I can't seem to get into the characters' heads as much as I used to anymore ;__; Must be from a lack of AXN reruns v_v Waaaah, I wanna seamlessly slip into Mi-chan's head again! I wanna I wanna I wanna! 

Lynn: *tries digging through Mi-chan's head with a crowbar*   
Mikagami: o.O;;; Get this thing OFF me!!!   
Lynn: *digdigdig* 

Anyway! I really like the idea of a Koganei/Ganko pairing. When they're older, of course ^^;; But I think they'd make a really kawaii couple in their teens, and this fic sorta points in that direction. Sorta ^_^ I don't know exactly how old one has to be to enter uni., or if there's even an age limit to that...so just cut me some slack, okay? Creative license! :P 

And what's with all the references to Lewis Carroll? It comes with reading "Through the Looking Glass" three times over @_@;;; The stanza in the fic is my favourite, BTW. It just has this mystical tinge all over it, to talk about cabbages and kings and whether pigs have wings *_* "Jabberwocky" is a poem created from meaningless words made up by Carroll, and you can replace those words to create your own meanings ^_^ 

**TRANSLATIONS:**   
baka = moron/moronic   
itetetetete = owowowowowow   
sakura = cherry blossoms   
iie = no   
ne = right?   
mou = (kinda like a whine ^^;; -- mou! *whine*)   
shimatta = damn it! (basically an all-purpose curse word ;)   
anou = um...   
'niichan = older brother   
gomen ne = sorry 

==================   
**Of Cabbages and Kings   
**by Lynn Utsukushii   
================== 

"All the invitations are out...finally." 

"What's wrong?" 

"I still don't understand why you had to choose such a design. Couldn't you have gone with something less...less..." 

"Pink?" 

"Yes." 

A rustling of papers, and a crumpled card was pulled out from the stack. "Oh, come on...I don't see what's wrong with it. It looks kind of cute, actually. Perfect for an eight-year old." 

"Demo--" 

"Didn't we agree that I would be the one in charge here?" 

"Yes, but...*strawberry* scents?! My baka brother will never let me live it down!" 

"You've never bothered about Recca-san anyway. Besides, who's having this birthday party here in the first place? You or your daughter?" 

"But it's *strawberry* scents!" 

"This, coming from a guy who wore purple lipstick." 

"Neon, that's not fair..." 

*** 

Honey-blonde hair flowed in short wisps around her, shining under the store's fluorescent lights as she scanned the rows of toys before her, meticulously marching up and down each aisle until she found the one that felt "right". 

At a youthful age of twenty-two, Morikawa Ganko had grown into a lovely vision of sunlit hair with eyes the pools of cloudless skies. Gone were the childish bows and laces of previous years, replaced by a pair of practical jeans and simple, collarless shirts accompanied by laced sneakers slightly worn from constant travel from one classroom to another. 

University was not an easy phase to pass by, yet it wasn't as hard as choosing the correct birthday gift for an eight-year old girl she barely even knew. The light pink invitation card poked out from the corner of her shoulder bag, embossed with silver teddy bears and tinted with just the slightest scent of strawberry. All in all, it was very cute. She hadn't a clue who the sender could have possibly been, until opening the card and finally reading its contents. 

The name had sent ripples of surprised laughter throughout the apartment within which she lived. It brought back countless memories, some good, some bad. It forced her to remain seated on her well-worn sofa, wondering what her response would be. 

The final aisle at the end of the store consisted of innumerable pink boxes stacked up row after row, and dolls of honey-blonde hair and eyes mirroring a cloudless sky stared back at her as she removed one of the boxes from the shelf. The artificial blonde hair stood perfectly in place, wavy and shiny to the point of being incredulous, adorned by a silver crown. The lithe, shapely body wore a sparkly, silvery pink gown with puffy sleeves, bows tied behind. Dainty glass slippers hung on the side, ready to be slipped onto its owner's feet. 

It was truly such a pretty little vision. No doubt the object of every little girl's daydream. Cinderella Barbie. With her magical godmother, her handsome prince and her gorgeous pumpkin carriage. 

With a sigh, Ganko replaced the box into its original position, feeling the need to gingerly wipe her fingers on her jeans and rid herself of the sugary sweetness of it all. 

It was too childish, too unbelievable. It couldn't possibly make an appropriate birthday gift. 

"Anyone ever told you, you look like a life-sized Barbie?" 

"What the hell--" she spun around at that comment, ready to snap a reply in return. The venomous words that lay at the tip of her tongue dissipated as she found herself staring into a pair of mischievous, coffee-brown eyes curtained by a wild mess of hair the colour of dark earth. The fanged grin, bearing the confidence of its wearer, was as startling as it was familiar. 

The image of a boy with a golden weapon larger than himself exploded into her mind, causing her to stumble back into the shelves behind her, sending a few boxes tumbling down onto the marble flooring. 

"Koganei...Kaoru!" 

Several boxes were thrown across the aisle, most of which had successfully made contact with their target. 

"Itetetetete!" 

*** 

They sat facing each other in a nearby coffee house, their booth placed just beside the glass panels that gave view to the various shoppers who passed by. A row of plastic plants lined the outside, covering the fake redbrick wall that comprised the lower half and giving the shop a homely, natural feeling. Tiny, flowing sakura petals were painted onto the panels' upper half, as if an imaginary hand were scattering miniscule residues of light pink onto its inhabitants within. 

Koganei poked idly at the sweet, sugar-frosted pastry on his plate, his attention trained mostly on the girl in front of him. He hadn't expected Ganko to react so violently to his words, yet the painful bump on his head showed otherwise. 

*_Iie, not a girl. Not anymore,_* he reminded himself, giving her a brief once-over, taking in her change in appearance and demeanour. It had been -- what? Five years? -- since they last saw each other. His decision to accept a scholarship from an overseas university had taken him out of Japan, and consequently, out of their little circle of friends. 

The sound of her metallic spoon hitting against the side of a tall glass as she stirred the contents within rang in his ears. 

It wasn't that he didn't try to make time for letter-writing...he did try. Really. It seemed easy, at first. The lack of assignments during that first month had given him plenty of time to write letters every day. Keeping his promise to Yanagi had seemed like a snap. Then the workload came piling in. Days seemed to pass faster, time that formerly crawled minute by minute whizzed by without him even knowing it. 

And the letters spaced out. Once every two days. Once every week. Once biweekly. Once a month. And so on, and so on... 

Suddenly, he found himself with barely anything to say to his friends back in Japan. Every time he picked up that pen and stared at that blank piece of paper on his writing desk, the words just seemed to disappear, replaced by reminders on that week's assignment to finish, that day's chores to do, that appointment to keep. 

Eventually, he gave up writing altogether. What were once letters three-pages long were substituted by short, to-the-point e-mails. But it was better than nothing, ne? He just didn't know what to say, how to say it. Like now. 

Koganei opened his mouth, willing himself to say something and mentally kicking himself for sticking his nose into places it didn't belong. Maybe if he had kept quiet, hadn't approached the familiar girl with shoulder-length hair and big, blue eyes, he wouldn't be in this awkward little mess. 

"So what brings you here? Koganei." 

"Huh?" When had Ganko finished drinking all that limejuice? 

Evidently, his dumb-founded expression must have been more than obvious. In her characteristic dryness, Ganko muttered, "Baaaka...There are reasons why people order drinks at times like this." 

Koganei blinked. 

She shrugged. "You know, as a distraction. Until someone starts to speak. In this case, that would be you." She waved a waiter over and ordered a second glass. 

Koganei gritted his teeth at her pointed remark. _ *Okay, this would be a pretty good time to engage your brain, Koganei. You're the child genius here -- think of something!* _

But he couldn't. Seems that all that time overseas had completely numbed his usual wit. 

Although it did look as if he wasn't the only one who had changed. The Ganko he remembered had been sweet, almost doll-like in appearance. An innate shine radiated from her expression; a stubborn disposition brought her mouth into a cute little pout that seemed out of place amid her innocent features. 

Yet the person he saw now seemed like a ghost of her former self. The previously natural face held a tint of rouge, dark blue eye shadow lined those almond-shaped eyes and he could even make out a trace of gloss upon her down-turned lips. He definitely didn't oppose to make up, but... 

_*It just doesn't seem like something Ganko would do,*_ he mused, _ *I'd imagine she'd turn out more like Fuuko. And then there's the clothes...* _

But did he really expect her to still be wearing that green dress over that white shirt, held up by a tiny bow on her back? 

The waving of a metallic spoon in front of him brought him back to reality. 

"So, what're you doing here? I thought you were still studying in...some university...somewhere," Ganko's brow wrinkled lightly as she tried to recall the name of that university. It was distinguished, that she knew. But she couldn't for the life of her remember its name. 

Koganei laughed inadvertently. Study like heck to get into one of the most illustrious universities around, and his friend still couldn't remember its name. "Don't bother about it," he dismissed it with a wave of his hand, "Half the time none of us can remember it, either. Goes to show you how much good having all those unpronounceable names does you, ne?" 

She chuckled in reply, a small smile featuring itself on her doll-like face. Koganei couldn't help but grin in return. Now, this was more like it. 

"Anou, as for why I'm here..." he dug into the pockets of his khaki pants, placing his discoveries upon the table as he went, "Gum wrapper, old receipt, bills, bills, bills...ooh, money, didn't know I had that...mou, where is it..." 

Ganko took a sip of her drink, waiting patiently. 

"Bingo!" Koganei exclaimed, unearthing his conquest triumphantly and throwing it lightly onto the now-messy table, "Guess who's turning eight this year!" 

The pink, strawberry-scented card lay innocently on the white, plastic table, the silver teddy bears gleaming under the low light of the coffee house. Koganei took a bite out of his as-of-yet untouched pastry. Ganko choked, sputtering limejuice in surprise. Then she reached into her shoulder bag and planted her own invitation card onto the table. 

Both stared. 

Laughter broke out amidst the overall quietness of the coffee house. 

"Kurei sent me a pink card! *Pink!*" 

"Be careful, Koganei! You'll choke on--" 

A stumble, a crash, and Koganei was rolling on the floor, half choking and half chortling. 

"--that pastry." 

*** 

"Does it still hurt?" Ganko asked as they sat by the fountain half an hour later, the marble cool against her touch. Koganei was busy nursing his bruised nose, idly poking at the Mickey Mouse bandage she had used to cover it much like the same way he'd been poking at that pastry earlier on. It didn't look like he'd retained much of his agility in his time abroad, either. Two bumps within an hour was quite the record for someone who'd been able to rival Mikagami's skill with Ensui at the age of thirteen. 

A muffled grunt was all the answer she needed. 

Turning her gaze back onto the miscellaneous passers-by lugging around their shopping bags, chin rested in one palm, she silently mulled about the question that had begun plaguing her mind ever since Koganei showed her the invitation card. Her free hand played around with the strap of her bag, a dark maroon colour that made her look older than she was. 

She didn't know when the transformation, the changes, had begun. She didn't even really know why it happened. Peer pressure? Maybe. 

_*"Anyone ever told you, you look like a life-sized Barbie?"* _

_*No, I don't...Barbie's are childish, unreal.* _

They're toys for little girls to play around with. To run huge, plastic combs through their straw-dyed hair. To mix and match their outfits from an array of colourful clothing. She wasn't like that, a little girl who wanted to play dress-up with her dolls. Not anymore. 

She'd grown up. That was it. She wasn't a nine-year old with a mannequin for a mother. She had Fuuko. Fuuko was mother, sister and friend all in one. 

"What would she say about this change, hmm? Ganko-chan?" she whispered, shoulder-length hair slightly damp from the spray of the fountain. She hadn't called Fuuko in months. The photo of her that lay on Ganko's dresser was at least a year old. 

But what *would* she say? Of the make up, the clothes, the dark maroon shoulder bag that looked like something a mother would use. 

"Nani?" 

"Iie, it's nothing," Ganko said quickly, remembering that she wasn't alone in her room, her leather-bound diary waiting to be penned with her thoughts. An old friend had returned; he was sitting right beside her. This was no time for reminiscing. 

She averted Koganei's curious gaze, hands now playing around with her invitation card, lightly turning it over and over until she could recreate the teddy bear design from memory. How had Koganei gotten the card, anyway? Had Kurei actually sent it all the way to Britain? Had Koganei actually come all the way across the Pacific just to attend a little girl's birthday party? 

"Anou...Koganei," she started, unsure how her question should come out. 

"Yeah?" 

"How did you get the invitation, anyway? I didn't think Kurei-san would send it all the way to Britain just for you...think of all that postage..." 

Koganei blinked, more than a little lost on Ganko's intentions. "Anou na..." he scratched his head in confusion, carefully avoiding the bump, "What the heck are you talking about? What postage?" Clarification would definitely be helpful. 

Her shoulders shrugged subtly in response, and she shifted around to get away from the spraying water of the fountain. "It's just that, if I were studying overseas, I don't think it'd make all that much sense to...you know, fly back for a kid's party," she explained, "At the most, send back a card with some money or a gift. But *flying?* Does Kurenai's party mean that much to you?" 

A blink. And one could almost see the pieces clicking together in Koganei's assignment-filled brain. He suddenly burst out in mirthful laughter, almost falling into the fountain and earning him several stares from others in the process. 

A scowl began to form on Ganko's face; she never did like being made fun of, even by Koganei. Especially by Koganei. 

"Hey, it's not that funny..." she began defensively, but was cut short by a wave. 

He grinned, waiting until the remaining chuckles died down before following up with Ganko's trademark insult. "Baaaaaaka," he choked out, the wryness in his tone undermined by the more apparent amusement, "You really thought I'd just got here? Baka, baka, baka! I've been bunking with Recca and Yanagi for the past month already; that's when Kurei's card came and we'd decided to go." 

Ganko stared, words dying out even before they could solidify within her mind. _ *He's been here, all this while? And I didn't even know?* _

He shook his head in disbelief, almost wondrously, "Geez, no wonder you looked so weird all day...you really thought I'd travel thousands of miles for Kurenai's party..." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" she cut in, the question bursting forth from her lips. Why hadn't he? He could have at least been polite enough to send her a message! 

Koganei shrank back at her demanding glare, the only thing holding himself from falling into the fountain being his outstretched hand. "Well, erm..." he stammered, feeling his stomach slowly coiling into a great, big knot of nervousness. Ganko's stare always had that effect on people. 

"I would have, but Fuuko was saying how busy you were, that's all, and that, well..." he gulped, "You probably didn't have the time to reply even if I did mail you. But then, even if I didn't tell you, at least we'd see each other at the party...ne? Ne?" 

Why won't Ganko move back? All this staring was giving him the shivers. People were even edging away from the duo. 

Silence. Then... 

"Fuuko...said that?" It was barely a whisper, almost lost amidst the splashing of the fountain and the chitchat of numerous passers-by. But she had said it, and she sounded almost mortified by it. Was that why Fuuko barely called or even e-mailed her anymore? Because she was "too busy"? 

_*But I am! Homework, chores, assignments...There's just no time for things like that! Demo...* _

"Fuuko really said that?" 

"Uh, yeah. Could you--could you move back, Ganko? My hand's numbing, I don't have extra just-in-case-I-fall-in-a-fountain clothes and it's a long way back to Recca's house..." 

Ganko backed off, but from the blank expression on her face, it didn't look like she'd heard what Koganei said. The latter stared at her worriedly, brows creased in a light frown. Again, he felt as if he'd said something wrong. It was the same feeling he'd gotten the minute after uttering that Barbie remark, and that particular remark had gotten him a pounding bruise on the head. 

_*Ganko's acting really...weird. I can't even figure out what's going on in that brain of hers.* _

"Hey, you okay? You look as if Domon's just popped up in drag or something," Koganei arched an eyebrow, trying to get a reaction, any reaction, out of her. What he got certainly wasn't what he expected. 

Muttering inaudible excuses, Ganko stiffly stood up. Clutching the pink invitation card in hand and shifting around the shoulder bag until it rested comfortably on her shoulder, she walked quietly towards the entrance of the mall. She didn't look back. Didn't look at anyone but the floor. 

"Ganko...?" 

*** 

She threw herself limply onto her bed, the shoulder bag thrown uncaringly on the floor. The pink card, slightly creased and spotted with bits of perspiration, was left upon her writing desk, resting just beside a white, blank paper and a penholder. A capped, blue-ink pen rolled down slowly and fell onto the lacquered parquet with a dull thud. It went unnoticed by the room's lone occupant. 

She had been renting the room from an old lady for the past two years now. It wasn't bad. The rent was reasonable, the location near...she was even given her own writing desk for renting both beds at once. Ganko liked her privacy. Five other girls occupied the rest of the rooms, and they were currently waiting for a sixth girl to join them. Over the months of staying together, they had managed to remain fairly cordial with one another, even going out for late-night supper once in a while. 

But it was nothing like the friendship she'd experienced before -- before she left for university, before Koganei left for his scholarship, before they'd all began to grow apart when there was no one common goal to fight for. The girls here knew that, eventually, they'd be leaving to pursue other goals and would probably never see one another again. 

Why bother building up a close friendship if it wouldn't mean anything in the end? 

It seemed that even the closeness between her and Fuuko didn't stand the test of time. But to be told, straight in the face, that there was no reason to call her...it was like knowing something all along, in the back of your mind, yet never acknowledging it until someone finally brought it out into the open. The words stung horrendously, as if they had been used to literally slap her. 

She couldn't tell how long she'd been lying there, accompanied only by the ticking of her cat-shaped wall clock. She faintly remembered that she had an appointment scheduled later that day, but with a sudden ferocity it was pushed into the back of her mind. No time for that. She had to think this through now, or else the constant doubts within her would drive her insane. 

_*But there's never enough time, is there? Too little time in one day. Twenty-four hours just isn't enough.* _

Rolling over, she lay spread-eagle upon her crumpled comforter, staring blankly at the empty ceiling above, its white-turned-yellowish paint blemished by traces of cobwebs and dark stains from a previously leaking pipe. She'd have to remember to clean that up soon. A new paint job would be nice. 

Ganko cringed. 

_*There you go again, wandering from one thing to another, jumping from thought to thought. Like that rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. Always rushing around and never having enough time to himself.* _

Turning onto her side, an abridged version of "Through The Looking-Glass" stared back at her from its place on the floor, barely hidden by the shadow of her writing desk. The memory of a favourite poem surfaced in her mind; it was one she and Fuuko had recited together, for a certain school project several years ago. 

_*'The time has come,' the Walrus said,   
'To talk of many things:*_

Blinking slowly, one hand reached out, barely touching the frayed, dog-eared edges of the book. She thought she'd lost that book a long time ago, left it in her old apartment across town. 

_*Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--   
Of cabbages--and kings--*_

Although she had discussed the metaphorical meaning in that project, Ganko had always preferred to think of it as a nonsensical poem. It held a certain charm when it meant nothing, when it was pure gibberish just for fun. 

_*And why the sea is boiling hot--   
And whether pigs have wings.'*_

Nonsense that only children could comprehend. 

Sitting upright, she began flipping through the well-worn pages, cringing at the light brown spots that came with old age, smiling at the familiar illustrations of the Walrus and the Carpenter walking by the beach. 

*** 

Koganei fidgeted slightly in front of the black grill, wringing his hands in uncharacteristic discomfort, not only from his damp clothes but from the realisation that he actually came here at all. From the directions the old guard gave him, this was definitely Apartment 213W. At the very least, the neatly arranged shoes behind the grill and the homely welcome mat before him proved that at least one girl was staying here. 

He rang the doorbell, not really knowing if he wanted her to be in or not. What was he going to say? 

A brief pause. The sound of a chain being unlatched penetrated the pitter-patter of rain upon the building's walls. Who would've thought he'd get caught in the middle of a storm at this time? Right in the middle of the afternoon, a freak shower just had to appear. 

He immediately recognised the blonde hair even before she fully opened the door. 

"Koganei? What're you doing here?" Ganko was clutching a book to her chest, although he couldn't actually make out the title from the lack of light in the corridor. 

Koganei took a step back, running a nervous hand through his damp hair, pushing back the bangs that clung to his forehead as he tried to estimate what her condition was. She seemed calm enough, if slightly dazed. Maybe he shouldn't have come. 

"Anou...just wanted to, y'know, see how you're doing..." he shrugged, "You seemed a little...well, weird just now. Upset. Was it something I said?" 

Ganko blinked, before giving him a wry smirk and muttering, "In a way, yeah. But it's not your fault." She paused, eyes widening at his wet clothing, the trickles of water that ran down his face, and the tiny puddle that was beginning to form at his feet. "It's raining outside?!" 

A sweatdrop. "No, it's sunny and bright outside," he muttered sardonically. 

_*Shimatta, the clothing!*_ The other girls were going to kill her. 

Ganko bit her lip, looking around cautiously, as if spies were actually hiding within the dark shadows of the hallway. Apparently finding it clear, she grabbed a key from a hook nearby and began unlocking the grill. "I'm not supposed to let anyone in," she explained, fiddling with the rusted lock impatiently, "But I guess you don't count as 'anyone'. Besides, you came all the way here because of me..." 

"Braving the rain outside and those savage guard dogs, don't forget that," Koganei reminded, "And I used to wonder why we had to get rabies shots." 

"Riiiight." The grill was unlocked, and she swung it open, ushering him in hurriedly, "Come in, quick. I'll get you a towel to dry yourself off." 

"Arigatou," Koganei quickly removed his soaking sneakers, making sure they weren't placed too close with the rest of the shoes, "I'm guessing nobody else is in?" 

"Nope. Just you and me." 

*** 

"...Whoa! So *this* is a girl's apartment?" 

Wrinkled clothes of all sizes and colours littered the two-seater sofa in the middle, the surrounding beanbags covered by so many unidentifiable pieces of cloth he could barely see them. Numerous candy wrappers were stuffed into a tiny dustbin, and an open bag of chips lay on the floor, nearly half its contents spilling out onto the parquet flooring. The TV and Playstation, carefully placed on a smaller coffee table, were the only appliances within the room that didn't have anything on, or hanging off, it. 

Ganko didn't reply, having gone into the bathroom in search of any extra towels. 

Koganei sweatdropped, surveying the mess and feeling his previous notion of neatness being an inherent feminine trait gradually dissipating like the bits of biscuit crumbs that were being hauled away by a line of ants. He didn't even dare enter the kitchen, staying rooted to the spot until Ganko returned with a face towel. 

"Gomen, this was all I could find," she offered, and Koganei took the towel silently, although he did give an appreciative nod. Ganko nonchalantly cleared a spot on the sofa, and motioned to him to sit down. Apparently, she'd gotten used to the mess. He did so, rather apprehensively, and continued drying his hair, sneaking glances from beneath the towel at the bedroom doors. 

_*Gotta wonder what's in there...*_ He surveyed the mess outside once again. _ *Or maybe not.* _

Ganko had started channel surfing. Evidently, she didn't intend on returning to whatever it was she'd been doing while he was still around. 

"So...What happened?" he questioned, feeling the need to pursue the subject further. 

"What what happened?" 

"Back at the mall," he paused, feeling slightly uneasy. Again, he had second thoughts about this. And again, he pushed it aside. "Why'd you freak out like that on me? Practically the whole mall was glaring at me after you walked out, as if *I* was to blame!" 

Ganko didn't reply, but continued tapping the remote control, jumping from random channel to random channel. 

Koganei frowned. He thought he'd give it one last try before giving up. "Was it about Fuuko?" 

She paused. The chosen channel was the weather channel, predicting sunny days throughout the week. Koganei reminded himself to send a scathing letter to said weather station as soon as he got to the nearest computer. 

"Do you..." Ganko stopped short of pursuing that question, reverting instead to something else. "Koganei...how often do you call home?" 

"What?" 

"How many letters do you write per month? Do you call Recca often, let him know what you're up to? Why don't you call him 'Recca-niichan' anymore, like you used to?" 

Koganei lifted a hand and started ticking of his answers, one by one, "Lessee, I write back once a couple of months; no, I don't call Recca 'cause it isn't cheap to make an international phone call, you know; and..." He pursed his lips at the last question. His voice dropped an octave from its original cheekiness. His answer was frostier than the snow on Mt. Fuji. 

"Why should I? I'm twenty-six now, I can't keep on calling him 'Recca-niichan'. It's not right. It's--" 

"It's embarrassing," she interrupted, turning to face him, sullen cloudless eyes resting on defensive coffee orbs. "Isn't that it? It just doesn't feel right, ne? You're all grown up now. You don't need your 'niichan anymore...heh, you've changed, Koganei." 

"Oi, what's that--" he stopped, before retorting heatedly, "You've changed too! Probably even more than I did! At least the Ganko I knew wouldn't have cut contact with Fuuko just 'cause of a job at the Coffee Bean." 

Ganko's eyes grew aflame at his remark, widening in shock at the pointed jab before narrowing considerably in anger. "You..." she hissed, voice dripping with venom. 

The remote was dropped, and her hand raised upwards, intent on hitting its mark with overwhelming fury, fanned by weariness and loneliness and plain confusion. Koganei caught the hand just before it landed on his cheek, grabbing the wrist. From the way he had to struggle to hold it still, the slap would have hurt. A lot. 

He continued, his tone suddenly gentle. Soft. Sad. He shook his head slowly, seeing himself reflected within her blazing eyes, "Yeah, look at you now. Completely changed. Back then, you wouldn't have left them for the world. You and Fuuko were closer than anything I'd ever seen. She was your whole world. We all were." 

Koganei loosened the hold on her hand, keeping an eye on it lest it try to slap him again. "When I heard you'd be going to Tokyo University, I was ecstatic. Little Ganko going off to one of the most sought-after university in Japan, who would've thought? I could imagine how proud everyone was...Your mother would've been proud, too." 

"Don't talk about my mother." 

"But now I hear you're not calling anymore," he continued, ignoring her glares, "Nobody knows what the heck's up with you. Nobody's even seen you for the past few months. It's like you've shut us out completely...What happened? Why'd you leave us out like that?" 

He watched as tears began welling up in her eyes, felt the lifted hand go slack, all fury ebbed by the calmness of his words. He released the hold on her wrist, and it fell limply to the side. Her head lowered, defeated, but he heard the words behind the curtain of hair that covered her face. 

"...Why did *you* leave us? Koganei?" Ganko whispered, not wanting to look at anything but the potato chip-covered floor below her. "Why'd you have to drag yourself all the way to Britain for that scholarship? You could've gotten just as good offers here too. But no, you had to go all the way there. Leaving us behind." 

She could feel him shifting uncomfortably beside her. She felt a stirring at the back of her throat, a sense of nausea at this confrontation. Why'd he have to bring it up, anyway? Why'd he have to come here? She bit her lip again. "It's all your fault!" she exclaimed, her otherwise accusing tone dampened by the thickness that came with crying. 

"My...fault?" 

"Hai. Once you left, it's like you left this huge, empty void in your place and we could never find anyone to fill it up. And it just grew bigger and bigger until it began taking over the others, too," the tears grew larger as she recounted all those awful moments of separation, "Kurei-san and Neon-san moved up north. We haven't heard from Mikagami in god-knows-how-long. Even Fuuko..." 

Her voice broke at that point, and she scrambled for the nearest piece of cloth to wipe up the tears that had started falling. Koganei offered her a damp handkerchief. 

Scrubbing viscously at her eyes, she continued, "Even Fuuko's gotten so busy I hardly see her anymore. Everyone was growing apart, going after whatever they wanted. So why should I stay back? I can grow up, just like the rest of them. I'll grow up, I'll be independent..." 

"...And maybe, they'll look one day and realise that you're not just a kid. You're one of them." 

Ganko looked up in surprise, to find a hand placed on top of her head, almost patting her. It was a gesture Domon always used to do, patting her head, because of her small size. She didn't shrug the hand off, but stared at him in uncertainty, "Koganei...?" 

He lifted his hand with a sigh, understanding clear in his eyes. A smile tinged his lips. "It's not easy being the youngest in a group of teens, is it?" he asked, shaking his head as he reminisced his own set of memories. 

"I know how it feels, being treated like a baby by the rest. Even in Uruha, we were the backbenchers, the last resort. No one really depended on us, even though we were just as good as most of them. Everyone thinks you're too young, too immature. No matter how much you're accepted, in the end you won't really feel like 'one of the group' because there's such a huge age difference." 

He stopped to glance at her, looking pointedly at her make up, "Am I hitting the mark?" 

Ganko placed a finger to her lips, feeling remnants of lip-gloss still on them. She had only started putting it on when one of the other girls started introducing it to the group. Wearing make up -- it felt like such a grown-up thing to do. Even when she couldn't stand the stuffy feeling that came with it, she'd forced herself to get used to it. Because it was the only way she could be an adult. 

"Bingo," she conceded, "I guess growing apart is just another grown-up thing, isn't it?" 

"Maybe," Koganei replied vaguely, before spying the book she had been holding, balanced precariously on an over-filled table. Grabbing it, he finally saw the title and, with a grin, flung it onto her lap. "But no matter how hard we try, we'll always be kids," he continued, "Because only kids could possibly want to read a nonsensical book like that and enjoy every minute of it. My favourite parts were the poems; Lewis Carroll-dono is a genius." 

"Agreed," she fingered the book fondly, slender digits running over the illustration on the front cover. 

"That we're kids? Or that he's a genius?" 

"Both. Maybe. Jabberwocky's a little confusing, though." 

He grinned, shaking a finger at her, "Ah, but that's what makes it so fun. Let the adults do all the thinking and philosophical stuff. We'll just busy ourselves with turning it into a proper poem! Or try to, in any case." 

Ganko turned silent, contemplative. Maybe she had never really grown up, after all. In a way, she was still a little girl playing dress-up; this time, the role being that of a mature, adult woman. But it was still just a role. Nothing more. Once her time on stage was over, it would hold no meaning in her life. 

"I guess...you're right," she nodded, still holding the book in her hands, "I've been fooling myself all along. Thinking I could outgrow myself, become someone else." A mirthless grin. "What was I thinking? That, if I were to become one of them, we'd all get closer? Like we used to?" 

"Which is why Kurenai's birthday party's the best place to regroup," Koganei interrupted, waving the familiar, albeit slightly wet, card in his hand, "No one's gonna dare miss out on her party, especially if Kurei would go to all that trouble of sending us *pink* cards, right?" 

Ganko chuckled, "I don't think he'll ever live this down, especially since Recca's getting one too." 

Koganei snickered at the thought, before his expression turned serious out of the blue. "We haven't completely separated, you know," he stated, his voice quiet and subdued, "We're still friends. So what if we don't call? It doesn't mean we don't think about them, right? Doesn't matter how old we get -- we're still the kids of Hokage. We *are* Hokage. It's not something you can lose easily over a few years and a couple thousand of miles." 

"Hokage. Us." 

"Right." He placed the card beside her, glancing up earnestly, willing her to come, "We'll go to that party, Ganko. And we'll enjoy it, with *our* friends. I'm pretty sure Recca will bring his fireworks. Just like old times." 

Ganko stared at him, almost afraid of his sudden intensity. Yes, Koganei really did change, although it seemed to be for the better. Unlike her, he didn't completely cut himself off from their friends, and that was what kept him going. Kept him the confidant fang-boy he always was. 

Maybe, some of that confidence would rub off on her during their trip to the party. She would gladly welcome it. It wouldn't be easy to face Fuuko again, after all those months of silence. But...she wanted to. Needed to. She had to find that old self, the one buried under all that make up and clothes and cynical attitude. 

_*Just like old times, huh?*_ Ganko smiled, "I'm gonna need to find a present, though." 

Koganei whooped, throwing a victorious punch in the air, "And the fanged genius wins again!" 

"Well, genius, would you give that towel back now? If we hurry, I'll probably be able to grab something from the mall." 

Koganei handed back the kitchen towel, now wet from soaking up all the rainwater in his hair. As she reached for it, Ganko drew in closer. Eyes half-lidded, her mouth close to his ear, she whispered gratefully, "Arigatou, Koganei. It really helped." 

And planted a kiss on his forehead. 

*** 

"I really hope Ganko-chan remembered to bring in the laundry." 

"Don't worry, Minako! The girl's got a better memory than you and I combined." 

A jingle of keys, and the unlocked grill was pushed open. A scream pierced the quiet corridor. 

"What the--" 

The door swung open. 

A teenage boy in his mid-twenties lay dazed upon the snack-covered floor, his head turned at a terribly odd angle, signifying the possibility of a twisted neck. Coffee-brown eyes had turned into little swirls, bewilderment clear on his face. 

Ganko stood just above him, staring worriedly at his prone body, kitchen towel in hand. 

"Ganko, who the heck is this?!" 

A human-shaped hole adorned the ceiling just above the sofa. 

"Gomen ne, Kira-san! I didn't think you guys would be back so soon!" 

The faint outline of lip-gloss could be seen on the stranger's forehead. 

~fin~ 


End file.
